


Lightbulbs

by LittleRose13



Series: The 12 Days of Shipmas 2017 [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 12 days of shipmas, Engaged, Engaged Scorbus, M/M, wrapping Christmas presents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-12 05:17:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12952146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleRose13/pseuds/LittleRose13
Summary: 20th December, 2027In which Scorpius regrets opening the mulled wine before all the presents are wrapped.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The 12 Days of Shipmas - Day 4, the prompt was 'wrapping presents'

_20th December, 2027_

The Potter/Malfoy’s living room was decorated beautifully for Christmas. Garlands of holly lay across the wooden mantelpiece, studded with crimson berries and frosted with glistening snowflakes. Pale gold fairies nested amongst the leaves, glittering and twinkling. 

Even though they would only be spending Christmas morning in their apartment, there was a large and generously decorated Christmas tree in the corner of the room which also housed iridescent, live fairies. Beneath the impeccable tree, the chaos started with an unwieldy pile of unwrapped presents in front of which Albus was sitting. 

Spread all around him were several rolls of wrapping paper, three automatic spellotape dispensers, various bows and decorations, ribbon in every colour, a large, half-empty glass of mulled wine and a pair of scissors, which Albus kept misplacing and loudly asking Scorpius “where the fuck are the fucking scissors?” despite him having sat on them every single time.

Scorpius sat demurely on the floor behind Albus, leaning on the coffee table with his own glass of wine and using his best peacock feather quill to fill in Christmas cards and gift tags for all of their family and friends. The system was supposed to be that Albus selected a present from under the tree, told Scorpius what he’d picked up, wrapped it up while Scorpius wrote the matching card then the two were united and placed in the ‘finished’ pile.

The trouble was that Scorpius was taking much longer to fill in the cards as neatly as possible than Albus was taking to wrap the presents. After sitting around waiting for ten minutes before he could start wrapping the second present - and going overboard on the decoration on Lily’s present in the meantime - Albus abandoned Scorpius’ system and just started wrapping any present he could see.

“Who’s this one for?” Scorpius asked his fiancé, holding up a cylindrical present wrapped in golden paper patterned with stars and a sprig of real holly (taken from the mantelpiece) spellotaped haphazardly to the front.

Albus considered the gift in question for a second, his head on one side.

“It’s either a box of lightbulbs for Grandad Arthur or one of those floating bath candle things for Aunt Angie.” 

“Well, _which_?” Scorpius was poised with his quill hovered over a blank card. 

“I’m pretty sure it’s the candle,” Albus guessed randomly, having no idea.

Scorpius looked at him suspiciously for a second before gently shaking the present. “That didn’t help me.” 

“It’s for Aunt Angie, I’m sure.” 

“Well, if she asks me why we gave her lightbulbs for Christmas-”

“You can blame it on me.” Albus smiled and reached back into the gift pile for another present to wrap. He selected one and held it up suspiciously. “We bought someone a sieve for Christmas?”

“It’s an _art installation_ for Dad.” Scorpius sighed, took it from Albus and turned it the other way around, placing it back on the coffee table. “You were there when I bought it.”

“I was?”

“ _Yes_. You said the gallery was pretentious and only agreed to come in if I promised to buy you an ice-cream from Fortescue’s.”

“I did?”

“You had gingerbread flavour with chocolate sauce.”

“Oh yeah, _that_ ice-cream!” 

Scorpius rolled his eyes fondly at his fiancé. 

“How exactly do you expect me to wrap this?” Albus picked up the sieve/art installation again, turning it around and considering the obscure shape.

“Oh, just as neatly as you have all the other presents,” Scorpius muttered, finishing the gift tag he was writing with a flourish. 

“Scor, I offered to write the cards instead and let you do the wrapping.”

“You were just going to write _Merry Christmas from Scorpius and Albus_ once then charm it onto every tag.”

“That is exactly what I was going to do. Then I was going to distract you from wrapping the presents. Why does it matter what the tags say? Nobody reads them anyway.”

“I do!” said Scorpius, affronted. “I’m writing a personalised pun in everyone’s card, it’s really quite enjoyable.”

Albus shrugged and cast the art installation aside, opting instead for a rectangular box which contained a pair of adorably tiny shoes for one of Teddy’s twins. He was already bored with wrapping presents and it was only because of Scorpius’ insistence that they sit down and do this together that he was even still doing it. 

Opening the box to look at the shoes, Albus placed his first and middle fingers into a shoe each, making them ‘walk’ across the table and stop at Scorpius’ writing arm. The shoes gently tapped their way up Scorpius’ arm and over the back of his neck, then round to underneath his chin. 

“Albus!” Scorpius complained and put his quill down. He looked down at where Albus was still waving the baby shoes around under his nose and grinned up at his fiancé. Albus’ arm had ended up wrapped around Scorpius’ shoulders and he snuggled into him.

“You can’t be cross with these tiny things can you?” Albus made the tiny shoes dance around in front of Scorpius’ face, until one fell off and landed on the floor. 

“I don’t know why we bought the twins shoes. Those girls have been barefoot every time I’ve ever seen them.” He picked the fallen shoe up and reunited it with its pair.

“That’s what happens when you live by the beach and do toddler yoga every morning,” Albus explained with an eye roll as he replaced the shoes into their box.

Scorpius watched him. “How many presents left to wrap?” 

“I don’t know, like a hundred.” Albus scooted back over to his fiancé with a sulky expression. 

Scorpius frowned. “We don’t know that many people.”

“Whatever, I’m _bored_ of wrapping. Can we finish the rest with magic and go to bed?” He nibbled Scorpius’ earlobe. 

“No! We’re wrapping them by hand, I want to start a tradition.”

“Actually Scor, _I’m_ wrapping them by hand.” He picked up one of his first attempts, where the automatic spellotape dispenser had proved to be a bit too exciting. “It’s harder than it looks.” 

“It can’t be that difficult without magic? Let me have a go.”

“Okay fine, you’re on.” Albus reached into the present pile and picked out the matching shoebox for Teddy’s other twin. He placed it in front of Scorpius and added a roll of wrapping paper, some scissors and a spellotape dispenser. “Best wrapped present wins.” 

Scorpius raised one eyebrow. “Wins what?” 

Albus paused for a second, then wriggled closer to Scorpius to whisper in his ear. “If _you_ win, I’ll do that thing you like with my tongue.”

Scorpius’ eyes widened and he smirked. “And if you win?”

“You tell me,” Albus challenged. 

“If you win, I promise to marry you next year.” Scorpius smiled angelically.

“Isn’t that literally what this means?” Albus grabbed Scorpius’ left hand and span his engagement ring around, before interlinking their fingers. 

“It’s subject to demonstration of present wrapping abilities I’m afraid,” Scorpius said, squeezing Albus’ hand.

“Damn, I suppose we’ll have to cancel the venue then.” Albus kissed Scorpius. 

“That thing you do with your tongue is rather a good prize,” Scorpius wiggled his eyebrows, their faces inches apart.

“A better prize than marrying me?” Albus bit his lip. 

Scorpius closed the gap between them and simply kissed him in response. Albus smirked and pulled away from him, pushing the second shoebox closer to his fiancé and grabbing his own. 

They sat with their backs to each other, each wrapping a separate shoe box. Albus cut the wrapping paper as precisely as he would have done a shrivelfig in potion making and tried to fold every corner accurately. He wasn’t too liberal with the spellotape and he even added a red ribbon to coordinate with the emerald green paper (the holly leaves seemed a bit hazardous to hand to a two year old). He wrote _Pippa_ on a gift tag in his neatest handwriting and tied it to the ribbon with a slightly lopsided bow. Overall, he was rather proud of his attempt; it was certainly his best one so far. 

“Have you finished yet?” said Scorpius impatiently from behind him. 

“Yep, prepare to be amazed.” Albus turned, holding his nicely wrapped present in both hands and met Scorpius’ eyes. 

“Ta-da!” Scorpius sang, holding his own wrapped shoebox out. 

Albus looked down at Scorpius’ own wrapped gift. “What the fuck, Scor?”

Scorpius flinched and gazed at him with wide, grey eyes. His box was wrapped impeccably with scarlet paper, every corner crisp and even. Silver ribbon circled the middle of the box neatly and a large and sparkly silver ribbon decoration sat in the middle. A wooden gingerbread man tag was tied from the ribbon with a small card attached to it. The card read _This present is full of sole! Merry Christmas Clemmie, love Albus and Scorpius xxx_

“You used magic!” Albus accused.

“I did not! My wand is over there.” Scorpius pointed to where his wand was on the other side of the table.

Albus eyed him suspiciously. “Well, I think it’s safe to say you’ve won. Guess we can’t get married.” He pretended to sulk and Scorpius scooted over behind him, wrapping his arms over Albus’ shoulders and whispering into his ear.

“What are you talking about, my little drama queen? You think I won’t marry you after you do that thing with your tongue?” He nuzzled into the crook of Albus’ neck. 

Albus turned in his arms and pulled Scorpius into him, pressing their bodies close together and kissing him deeply. Scorpius kissed him back just as passionately until his hands were wondering, one into Albus’ dark, messy hair and one under the buttons of his shirt. 

Albus stroked the exposed skin of Scorpius’ lower back where his top had risen up and Scorpius shivered involuntarily beneath his touch. He hummed with pleasure as they kissed, the vibrations of his lips sending Albus his own involuntary shivers as he continued to trail his fingertips over Scorpius’ spine in a way that was full of hidden intent, and Scorpius knew it. 

He briefly pulled his face away from Albus, just long enough to smile breathlessly and Albus watched his eyes light up in that familiar way they did. Albus smirked at his fiancé as Scorpius’ fingers buried themselves deeper into his’ hair and he leaned in, almost overpowering Albus and knocking him backwards onto the floor. He shoved a hand out at the last minute to catch himself, his wrist taking the full force of his actions, but in that moment, all he could think about was how badly he needed to be kissing Scorpius again. 

“Let’s do the rest by magic,” Scorpius said hurriedly, leaning over and grabbing Albus’ wand out of his back pocket then aiming it at the present pile, a quick flick wrapping them all. 

Albus broke their contact for just a second to admire Scorpius’ spellwork. “Not bad considering that wasn’t even your wand.”

Scorpius shrugged. “Hmm, the ribbon isn’t curled evenly.”

“I really couldn’t care less right now,” said Albus, pulling Scorpius to his feet and out of the room. 

When Christmas Day came and the family were exchanging presents, Albus and Scorpius exchanged smirks when Harry and Ginny wondered who had wrapped each of their presents, as they were so different. One was vaguely stuck together with spellotape, and the other was perfect, almost as if it had been wrapped by magic. 


	2. A Few Chords

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bonus chapter of a little something which happened shortly after that Christmas!

Malfoy Manor was quiet and still and, if Scorpius didn’t know any better, he would have thought he and Ada were the only occupants. As he finished helping the old house elf organise the cloak closet, his eyes fell on the sculpture he and his fiancé had bought his father for Christmas.

In this light, he could see why Albus had thought it was a kitchen sieve turned upside down.

“You didn’t have to help, Master Scorpius. Ada had it under control,” the elf squeaked.

“I wanted to help, Ada.” 

“Thankyou, Master Scorpius.” 

It wasn’t just his like for organisation which had inspired Scorpius to help the elf. He needed a break from his dad’s rather incessant questions about his upcoming wedding. Draco seemed to be of the opinion that, now it was 2028, a moment not wedding planning was a moment wasted.

Weirdly, Albus loved it and encouraged his soon-to-be father in law at every opportunity. The two had quite the bond, formed almost entirely around a shared appreciation of sarcasm. Despite this, Scorpius never thought he’d see the day Albus Potter was genuinely interested in colour schemes and flower arrangements. He’d left on a conversation about whether or not lillies made good centrepieces, because he just needed some time away. 

He collected himself with a deep breath and pushed open the door again, ready to show some enthusiasm about the shade of tablecloth they might choose. However, it seemed the conversation had moved from wedding plans to something entirely different in Scorpius’ absence. 

“Here it is, I knew it was in this one.” Draco handed Albus a large book which Scorpius recognised instantly as a family photo album. His stomach dropped. 

“Well that’s adorable,” said Albus, holding the album in his lap. 

“We’re still not sure where he got the idea that he had to remove his trousers before reading.”

“Dad!” Scorpius protested from the doorway, and Albus looked up with a gleeful expression.

“You were a very normal two-year-old, Scor,” Albus grinned and patted the space beside him on the sofa he currently shared with Draco. 

“What are you doing?” Scorpius asked tentatively, edging nearer and almost not daring to look. 

“Just showing Albus some gems from your childhood,” Draco beamed. 

It was exactly the photo Scorpius had feared it would be. 

Albus was delightedly pointing at a photo of Scorpius, aged two, sat on an armchair that was much too big for him. His bare legs stuck straight out in front of him and he held a large and complicated looking spellbook upside down on his lap (which thankfully covered the fact that he wasn’t dressed from the waist down). On his feet were a pair of orange wellington boots. His tongue was out in concentration, staring at the page as if he could read it, until the person taking the photo must have called his name because the Scorpius in the photo looked up at the camera and beamed proudly. 

“Excellent choice of wellies, essential when reading upside-down spellbooks, I find.” Albus spoke between snorts of laughter. 

“Has Scorpius ever told you about how he used to compose his own songs on the piano?” Draco changed the subject and Albus looked between the two Malfoys in glee.

“No, I think that one slipped his mind.” 

“Dad, I really don’t think Albus needs to-“

“You’re marrying me, we can’t have secrets from each other,” Albus interrupted him. 

Scorpius eyed his fiancé skeptically, wondering if Albus would feel the same way if the situation was reversed and it was his embarrassing baby stories being shared. He vowed to find out the next time he was at the Potters’.

“So he must have been about four, and we’d started to teach him to play the piano, but he’d only mastered a few chords.”

“Oh yeah, just a few chords. I hate it when four-year-olds slack off like that,” Albus muttered and Draco smiled. 

“Imagine those few chords played randomly over and over again, with a good pause between each one while Scorpius rearranged his fingers. Anyway, it didn’t take him long to realise he was sort of creating his own songs by doing that. So, naturally, he had to compose some lyrics to go along with them.”

Albus’ grin grew as Scorpius hid his face in his hands, knowing what was coming next. 

“What were the lyrics?” his annoyingly keen fiancé asked. 

“Do you want to give us a rendition, Scorpius?” 

Scorpius raised his head. “No, I want no part in this whole thing.” 

“Well, I can’t quite do it justice in the same way,” Draco started. “But Scorpius was inspired to write a song about what he’d eaten for breakfast that day. It started something like _porridge for breakfast, at the start of the day, I eat it all up, so I can play.”_

“Of course it rhymed,” Albus put in. 

“It gets better,” Draco continued, ignoring Scorpius’ desperate look. “ _It sits in my bowl, with honey on top, when I start eating, I don’t want to stop.”_

“Actually, _you_ wrote that verse, Dad.” 

“So I did. The last bit was all you, though.” 

Scorpius resigned himself to taking over; after all, they were his lyrics. 

“ _When I eat porridge, I’m over the moon, who else loves porridge? You might need a spoon.”_

Albus applauded them both through peals of laughter. “ _You might need a spoon._ That’s genius! You were only four!” 

Scorpius shrugged. “Mum used to read me poems a lot, I think it came from there.” He turned to his dad. “Have you quite finished now? How long had this been going on before I got here?”

“Oh, most of the time you were gone.” Albus grinned. “Can I please request that you never hide a muddy bunny rabbit in our bed as a surprise?” 

“No, you cannot,” Scorpius folded his arms in mock offence. 

“Don’t worry, I didn’t tell him about Scorpy,” his dad said loudly and obviously.

“ _Scorpy_?” Albus looked happier than he had the night they got engaged. 

“Dad, please don’t!” Scorpius hid his face again. 

“Oh come on, you have to tell me now!” 

Draco looked to Scorpius who reluctantly nodded, giving him permission. 

“When Scorpius was little, and first learned to talk, he used to always refer to himself in the third person.”

“Which is very normal for a toddler,” Scorpius cut in. “Pippa and Clementine do it all the time.”

Draco nodded. “Yes, very normal. He also gave himself the nickname _Scorpy_ for some reason. We don’t know where it came from, it wasn’t a name Astoria or I called him ever.”

“ _Scorpy_ , that’s adorable,” Albus commented. 

“The result was any request from our son would feature this elusive Scorpy. It was like he didn’t know about the words _I_ , or _me_ , or _my_. He’d ask me things like _Scorpy wants Daddy to hold Scorpy’s hand_ when we were out somewhere. Or at mealtimes, _Scorpy feeds Scorpy’s self.”_

“I was two!” Scorpius complained. 

“Yes, and you did that until you were at least six.” Draco checked his watch. “You’ll be pleased to know I have to leave for the Ministry now, but trust me, Albus, there are plenty more where that came from.” 

When he’d gone, Albus smiled angelically at his fiancé. 

“I don’t know why you’re looking so innocent,” Scorpius grumbled. “I’m going to floo to your parents’ house and get them to tell me all your embarrassing baby stories, and then one day when you least expect it, I’ll… what?”

He stopped, distracted by the look his fiancé giving him. 

“Al wants Scorpy to hold Al’s hand.” He held his hand out and clasped it with Scorpius’. “Al wants Scorpy to kiss Al. Al wants Scorpy to marry Al. Al wants Scorpy to-“

Scorpius cut him off with a kiss.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a birthday fic for per-mare-ad-astra because she wanted to see a scene where Draco tells Albus about Scorpius as a kid!   
> Any feedback is always appreciated :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading part 4! I love writing these two <3  
> Check out my [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/littlerose13writes) for the full list of prompts littlerose13writes 
> 
> Coming up on the 10th December is 'Christmas songs' featuring yet more Potter family fluff and everybody's favourite Winter themed kids' movie!


End file.
